The Thought Of Mercy
by ChromaticDreams
Summary: Spoilers! After escaping the stressful events of The Magician's Apprentice/The Witch's Familiar, Clara confronts the Doctor about Missy. After all she's done to him, how can he possibly stand her? A tag/missing scene.


AN: Spoilers for The Magician's Apprentice/The Witch's Familiar. Which was absolutely magical. :D

* * *

 _The Thought Of Mercy_

"I'm sure this'll hurt, but it won't cause permanent damage, will it?" she asked, as her hands fidgeted restlessly in her lap.

The Doctor's own hands hovered over the wired electrodes that Missy attached to Clara's temples. Each electrode contained three super skinny, sharp prongs that bored through the skull. These prongs functioned as a sort of digital neurotransmitter, allowing Daleks (or in Clara's case, non-Daleks) to operate the outer shell. It'd be as easy as a leisurely walk on Delphon to safely extract in any ordinary circumstances, but today's events were leagues from ordinary. Unfortunately, with the revolting inhabitants of the Dalek sewers ready to cannibalize their own cities, this would require a rushed job, one made even more difficult by the sporadic tremors shaking the entire complex.

"I've absolutely the slightest idea," he replied, deftly avoiding her gaze. Carefully, he began pulling at the first electrode, testing its depth. "But if you keep squirming so much, Clara, I can promise you it will!"

"Sorry."

"Be _stone_ still. And... clench your teeth while you're at it; this will sting."

Not one to argue with good advice, Clara squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her jaw. The Doctor grasped the electrodes tightly, one in each hand. Deep creases formed on his brow as he concentrated, placing his fingers at precise locations. He took a chance when the corridors finally stopped rumbling for a time, and yanked both electrodes straight out of her skull at once.

" _Ow_!" she hissed, eyes watering. "Doctor!"

"What, I said it'd sting, didn't I? Now, let's get you out of there..."

Clara eagerly took his offered arm, and wiggled her way out of the Dalek casing unit in no time. She stretched her back, groaning in relief as she moved free for the first time in hours.

"Well, thank god that's over. That might've just broken the record for the most unpleasant thing I've ever experienced in my- _whoa_ kay, and we're back to running!"

"You can tell me all about it later," he said, not entirely realizing what she was referring to. The two of them progressed from a brisk run to a sprint. "Right now we have to focus on staying alive."

"Just a minor detail, yeah," Clara replied with a bit of a nervous giggle.

The Doctor, grasping her hand extraordinarily tight, began to lead her through Skaro's nebulous maze of corridors and chambers- well, nebulous for a human, at least. He peeked over his shoulder so he could check on his friend clearly. She didn't appear to express any obvious physical ailments, but after all the hell she'd gone through today he had an excuse to worry.

"I'm so sorry," he spoke up suddenly, breathing sharply in-between, "for what she did to you. And for what she almost did to me..."

* * *

The Doctor's favorite leather chair enveloped Clara Oswald as she unwound from the day's dose of pent-up frustrations. She leaned back and watched the ceiling of the time rotor spin, each rim spinning opposite of each other. Her sight focused on a new Gallifreyan symbol each time they disappeared around the "edge" of the circle. In her lap she absentmindedly wrung her hands together, tighter and tighter each time.

The Time Lord- though he was busy checking on vital systems at the left side console- heard every single pop of her knuckles. Her breath seemed labored at times, and she hadn't said a word to him since the TARDIS dematerialized. Surprising, and odd. Usually she couldn't _stop_ talking after their typical misadventures. Lips pursed, he glanced toward the upper platform and spotted her sitting in his chair. The two of them locked eyes for a moment, but hers quickly looked away.

With a sigh, the Doctor paused his routine work and crossed to the steps. "Something troubling's on your mind, Clara," he stated.

"Is it really that obvious?" she asked flatly, still directing her attention to some ambiguous point at the console room's far wall.

His eyebrows shot up as he chuckled. Had it really been so long that Clara Oswald had forgotten?

"You do realize you're not the only one in this ship who's good at reading people?" No reply- not even a smile. The Doctor's own lopsided smile faded. "Now, what is it that's eating at you?"

Three pops of her knuckles signified the passing of time before she made any sort of response.

"A question. One you're not gonna like."

"And you'll never know that for sure unless you ask me," he encouraged, leaning against one of the metal railings.

Clara breathed in deeply. "How can you stand her?"

"Who?"

"Who? _Missy!"_ she burst out suddenly, standing to her feet and beginning to count the steps towards him. "She's just as selfish and traitorous and untrustworthy as any other enemy we've faced, and yet you- you always let her live," she said, pointing her finger at the Doctor, her eyes flaring. "I- I'm sorry, but I can't understand it. I mean, you once told me that her last regeneration abused you and your friends for months!"

"It's not her fault she's like that!" he snapped back, but immediately regretted the tone in which he said it.

The TARDIS became exceedingly tense as Clara tilt her head ever so slightly and frowned, eyes deadpan- the sort of disapproving expression she saved for misbehaving students. He could practically bet a regeneration that _she_ \- the TARDIS herself- could sense the uneasy atmosphere as well.

The Doctor and Clara now stood face to face.

"And why is that?" she asked.

"Why?" His expression softened, wrinkles fading. "It doesn't matter _why_ , Clara. She's my oldest friend, and I can't abandon her now. Wherever I am, whatever I face... Whoever I turn out to be... I will always consider compassion above everything else. Consider it for a moment, Clara. Did I ever abandon _you_ when you wronged me?"

Her bottom lip quivered, wavering under his piercing stare. "No," she admitted, but barely in a whisper.

"And that's the thought of mercy," he said, with a slight nod. "Forgiveness for my friends, and sometimes- if it's an especially good day- forgiveness for my enemies."


End file.
